Myth: Denetion's Children

[Itege Savarna]

Denetion Medivantis.

The great ruler of all Midgard's oceans. He was the bringer of life to all who found their homes in his waters, be they Glaucan, Mer, or any other small creature. He was kind and merciful in one breath, yet vengeful and quick to anger in the other. Perplexing to some, but to others it was a way of life.

Denetion was as unpredictable as the waters he ruled.

In the waters below Phressia, the city-state of Ilyx was home to many Glaucans. Most it seemed bore the mark of some offshoot holy order belonging to Denetion, whether it be a following of only a few, or one of the more prolific and wider spread groups. And while there were certainly differences among each one, they coexisted in peace. All professed their faith in the god of the oceans - what did it matter if some chose to worship in different fashions?

Denetion was the center of a many faceted diamond, and each face, while at a different angle than all the others, still looked upon that center.

And it was one of those diamond facets - one of those splinter groups belonging to Denetion - that brought the priestess Itege Savarna up from her home beneath the waters. The news had come from a fellow priest, and curiously unbelieving as it was, the age old Glaucan wished to see the sign for herself.

A waterstone carving, he had said, possessed by the Phression Satrap Csephion Draxus.

Waiting three days after recieving the news, Itege spent her time meditating, entreating upon Denetion for understanding. The sign was not one seen in a long while; it belonged to the followers who'd long ago been sent away from the undersea and made to live a bleak existance between water and land.

She knew the family it belonged to, but did the Satrap?

On the eve of the fourth day, the Glaucan priestess made her way up from Ilyx, to Phressia. It was not a hardship for her despite her age; there were many in the surrounding city-states that swore she was ageless - that she looked the same as when they were but small children.

Such words made her smile to herself.

She had not sent word ahead of her to inform the Satrap of her arrival, but it was not needed. She was a priestess of Denetion. Stopping at the entrance to the Satrap's villa, Itege stood for a moment to look upon the grand architecture. It had not changed much since the last time that she had been here last. Another few minutes of thoughtful contemplation, and the old Glaucan continued onward.

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus paced in his sun room, dictating missives and other bits of trivium to Pascias and his tireless hand. There were favors to be done for other Satraps loyal to him, and correspondence to be kept with Tirgatia, and the perennial issue of tribute that was due from the Corvi. The steady stream of bureaucratic duldrum threatened to drag the Satrap into a stupor, and he wasn't even yet to sorting out the day's grief from Regulus Varo and his stodgy faction. So when the door slave stepped into the sun room to announce a visitor, Draxus sighed noticably.

"Wonderful, bring them in."

The slave, wondering if his master was being hasty, cautioned for clarification.

"Might Domus wish to know of his guest?"

Draxus shook his head forcefully, and Pascias took this as a cue to cease his dictations for the moment.

"I desire to speak to somebody who can speak back. This correspondence has me speaking aloud to air, like a deranged man."

[Itege Savarna]

She was ushered into the sun room without ceremony; it was a nice thing, to be let in without any manner of formalities. She was not here on behalf of Denetion or any other holy task; Itege merely wished to satisfy her curiosity and see if what was told to her was the truth.

It had been a long while since she had performed any sort of rituals for the men of land, wishing to entreat upon Denetion, and it was a much more rare occasion when she came up from the waters below at all. She was getting old, and leaving Ilyx had become something of a chore. As well, she was never very comfortable on land.

Clad in robes of vibrant blue and silver, the priestess gave to the Satrap a kind smile and a gracious bow.

"Noble Satrap."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus bowed in return upon noting his visitor's priestly garb.

"Priestess, welcome to my home."

He gave an austere smile, all the while wondering what this visit portended. Augurs for Denetion were usually on an appointment and payment basis, so this was likely something else entirely.

[Itege Savarna]

That brief nicety out of the way, Itege clasped her hands in the wide sleeves of her robes while giving a cursory glance to the Satrap's slave, Pascias.

Her attentions returned to Draxus soon enough though.

"You have been relentless in your offerings to Denetion as of late, and he blesses you surely; my fellow priests assure me of that."

She paused then. The matter of the waterstone was of such a nature that she wished only to discuss it with the Satrap. His servant would be a most unwelcome addition to the conversation.

"... Might we talk in private?"

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus glanced to Pascias, who needed no further instruction. He dutifully rose, put away his quill, and walked out of the sun room, making sure to shoo the rest of the help out of the chamber as the doors were sealed behind him.

Taking the role of host, Draxus gestured to a couch.

"Will you sit and take wine?"

[Itege Savarna]

Itege allowed herself to accept the offered couch, but refused the wine. She was not here for drink.

"I have been told that you have an amulet. Waterstone, in fact."

She wished to drive to the heart of the matter, and set to the task immediately.

"Is this true?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"I have innumerable trinkets of some form or another."

Draxus knew exactly what the priestess meant, but he refused to be placed at a disadvantage.

"Can you tell me more of what you're seeking?"

[Itege Savarna]

The gills on her neck opened and closed, a sign that she'd not expected such an answer. Her brow furrowed.

"One of my priests told me that he saw it the last time he was here. A circle, quartered by a cross."

Folding her hands in her lap, Itege looked at Draxus.

"I am intrigued to know if you do indeed have it."

She thought for a moment. She knew that the band of Fyrian pirates had recently been taken by the Satrap, but that Fyrian himself had escaped. How then, had Draxus come to have this trinket? It was a perplexing question.

[Csephion Draxus]

"Ah, I remember."

Draxus feigned recollection.

"Yes, I do have such an amulet."

He took on an inquisitive expression.

"You'll have to pardon my questions, you have me at a disadvantage. I didn't think the priestly caste for jewelry aficionados."

[Itege Savarna]

A soft laugh at that, and Itege shook her head.

"No, nothing of the sort.

"It is a crest of sorts. A very old sign, and was a symbol of the family that formed one of the first denominations that grew around Denetion. None have seen it in ages until now."

[Csephion Draxus]

"I see."

He wondered where all this led. Ancient geneologies were the fancy of some people, but why the insistence of privacy?

[Itege Savarna]

"Satrap, you must understand my curiosity. It is not for any leniency toward the pirates of Fyrian that brings me here, but I do not see how you could have such a thing when Fyrian himself escapes you... "

She stopped then, staring intently into his eyes. Did he truly not know? Her lips parted then, and she leaned back a small bit.

"You do not know then."

Itege shook her head, eyes closing. Another few moments passed before she finally went on.

"The circle quartered by the cross, Satrap. It is the sign of Fyrian."

[Csephion Draxus]

A single eyebrow arched, and it was all the Satrap's restraint to keep this his only sign.

"It is?"

How clever she was, Ariadne. Ariadne Fyrian. That she could endure so much would be commendable, if not for the sheer amount of treachery it demanded.

Draxus's lips pressed together thinly after a sip of wine to mask his simmering rage.

"I thought it merely some toothsome spoil. That's rather enlightening."

[Itege Savarna]

"As I said, it is an old sign. The family of Fyrian fell out of favor with Denetion long ago, and was forced to live between earth and water."

Itege bowed her head.

"Since that time they have made their way in life by taking from others.

"But their sign they still kept; it was always a sacred thing to them."

There was intense puzzlement in her gaze as she lifter her eyes and looked to Draxus.

"But now you have it, and that is most perplexing. I know that Fyrian was able to elude you, but none of his crew carry it... it is only worn by those of the family, and not even the threat of death would make them remove it from their bodies.

"How, Satrap? How did you get it?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"It was taken from one of the condemned pirates executed in the Arena."

Draxus lied, casual to the process.

"Perhaps in his desperate flight, it was passed on to another for safe keeping. Ironic, I think."

[Itege Savarna]

Itege shook her head firmly.

"No. He would have never done that. As I said, not even death would make them take the mark from their bodies."

Her eyes, an uncommon reddish hue, bored into the Satrap. She knew of the woman that he had kept with him, brought back from Tirgatia. Her priests knew many things, and word traveled fast throughout the city-states.

The Satrap was adept at the art of the lie, but the priestess was just as skilled at peeling away such falsehoods.

"You have recently had a visitor staying with you, have you not?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"A merchant from Tirgatia, yes."

The Satrap supressed the annoyance that the line of questioning was taking. Having found this recent turn of events, he was too busy in his own thoughts than to be bothered by these queries.

[Itege Savarna]

The Glaucan priest nodded, becoming lost in her own ponderings for a few minutes. Slience descended between them, but before long she spoke up once more.

"Might I see it?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"One moment."

Draxus rose, and headed for the door leading out of the room. He slipped through the door, closing it behind him. Suddenly he was glad to be alone in his thoughts again, as they demanded his fullest attention. He walked down the ornate hallways of his villa, intent on taking a brief stroll before returning.

Finding the amulet was no hardship for him. He kept the keepsake in a silk coinpurse at the belt of his tunic.

[Itege Savarna]

Itege was a patient woman, and gave a nod to the Satrap's back as he left the room. He hid his surprise well, and in some ways she was not expecting him to have no knowledge of the symbol. Of course, it was a somewhat obscure sign that only the priesthood knew to any large degree, but still.

The Glaucan gave a silent prayer to Denetion, but it contained nothing of substance. Should she be happy to see the amulet with her own eyes? Or should she be worried?

Perhaps more than anything, Itege was confused. Fyrian would not take it from himself, and yet the Satrap found himself in possession of the Fyrian crest. Did the Tirgati merchant have something to do with this? It was quite a lot for her to think on.

[Csephion Draxus]

Palming the amulet, the Satrap returned to the sun room, and presented the item in question on the table between their two couches.

"This is what you are looking for, I presume?"

[Itege Savarna]

Itege stared at the necklace, taken in by the waterstone carving and the simple leather band that had undoubtedly secured it around the wearer's neck. Carefully - reverently even - she reached a hand out to pick it up.

It was a beautiful thing, and her eyes went over every inch of it. It was not a large thing, but its' size mattered not.

"I have seen it with my own eyes then. It is true."

She closed her fingers around the amulet, feeling its' contours and shape.

"This is an omen, Satrap."

She looked at him.

"There is a member of the Fyrian family who has abandoned their kin."

[Csephion Draxus]

"This seems to be fortuitous then."

Draxus filtered the priestess' observations through what he already knew. Perhaps that was true, and perhaps it was not.

"Perhaps a weakness that can be exploited, and soon."

[Itege Savarna]

The Glaucan gave a smile, and returned the necklace to the Satrap's hand.

"The military matter I leave to you. I only wished to see with my own eyes the amulet."

Itege stood.

"I offer my thanks at your kind generosity."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus rose as well, receiving the amulet once again.

"I thank you for your observations once more. You still have me at a disadvantage. Who might I extend my thanks to?"

[Itege Savarna]

Suddenly remembering that she had neglected to introduce herself, Itege inclined her head.

"I am Itege Savarna. I do not come to the surface very often these days; the water is where I belong. But I wished to see your prize at least once."

[Csephion Draxus]

"Very good then."

Again, the austere smile.

"I am honored by the visit. Go in peace, Priestess. But before you do, which shrine to Denetion do you watch over? I shall pay my respects."

[Itege Savarna]

"Furthest shrine on the southernmost end of Ilyx."

That the Satrap wished to honor her shrine was most welcome, and she folded her hands in gratitude.

"The Satrap's generosity is unrivaled."

[Csephion Draxus]

"I will send my man down within the week. Thank you once again."

Draxus parted company with the Glaucan priestess, and found himself in the light of an adjacent window as solitude once more returned to him. He reached to an adjacent table, took of his wine, drank from it, and as he returned to his couch, he hurled the glass across the room, where it shattered against the wall. Pascias, startled, came rushing into the room.

"Domus? What is it?"

Not caring to expose tender wounds to his favored slave, Draxus responded with aloofness.

"The wine disagreed with me. Bring another sort."